


Avengers One-shots

by ThePianoHasBeenThinking



Category: Loki - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-16 15:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2274534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePianoHasBeenThinking/pseuds/ThePianoHasBeenThinking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of Avengers one-shots. Fluff, drabble (mostly attempts at 'em).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ice Queen, Fire King

**Author's Note:**

> AU Loki x Sigyn. (Logan = Loki, Seryn = Sigyn).  
> In the original Norse mythology, Loki was linked with fire (hence Fire King in the title).

Whispers surrounded her as she strode through the cubicle-filled office space. A worker was explaining to a newbie when she walked by: “They call her the Ice Queen.”

She raised an eyebrow. _Seriously, they’re still on about that? What’s wrong with being the way I am? It’s not like I’m rude or anything_. And that was true. She wasn’t _rude_ , per say. Just…detached. Somewhat on the frosty side, even though she hadn’t been literally frozen like Captain America. Ignoring her lesser co-workers like she always did, she walked into the office and promptly slammed her door. The whispers intensified on the other side of the wooden barrier; they all assumed she had done it on purpose. She stood in her office, a sheepish expression on her face. She hadn’t meant to do that, the window had been open and she had miscalculated the amount of force needed to simply close the door. Sighing, she swept a hand across her face and plopped down at her desk.

Seryn never meant to be this cold. In reality, she was extremely awkward and had a habit of saying things she thought out loud. Whenever she accidentally slammed a door, or knocked into a co-worker, they would say it was typical behaviour for the Ice Queen. _They couldn’t even think of a more original nickname_ , she thought, amused.

She hated the gossip mill of the office. Rumours about people circulated around, growing to enormous proportions. Blown out of reality. She knew her story was in there somewhere: she had been left at the altar by her fiancé of 2 years, who had allegedly ‘fallen in love with someone else’. In reality, Seryn had never been engaged. Her longest, most serious relationship lasted a year. She was too awkward, too weird, too…different. Seryn had often felt like there were a set of rules to follow in a relationship. First, you go on dates, where there were the usual light conversation topics and jokes. Then there was the physical stuff. And the thought of moving in. Her boyfriends had all thought her too _mechanical_. Like they were dating a robot.

Another rumour: she refuses to form any bonds with people, beyond the ones she already has with close friends and family. That was partly true, but not because of her “frozen heart”, as people speculated. It was hard to make new friends when she was just so awkward. First meetings were the bane of her existence, so to speak.  
  


* * *

  
Logan was mischievous, lively. He burned with a passion of a thousand suns. Well, maybe that was a _little_ exaggerated. Okay, perhaps a lot, but that doesn’t matter (it’s a metaphor!) He was outgoing, brave, funny. He had people laughing within 3 seconds of meeting him. It was a sight for Seryn to see. The first time she had seen him, she had been walking to her office when Annie – a co-worker assigned to get him settled in – brushed by with Logan in tow. She had stumbled a little, caught off balance, and steadied herself on her ballet flats.

“Are you okay?” he had asked her. She had nodded, clearing her throat and giving him an awkward smile. He had given her a big grin and wandered off. Immediately, the whispers had started – or rather, they weren’t whispers. They didn’t have enough tact to pretend they weren’t talking about her.

“You just bumped into the Ice Queen? You were so lucky you weren’t _eaten_.” Cue fake and high-pitched laughter.  
The typical reply of “Who’s the Ice Queen?” had followed as Seryn walked into her office.

She had locked herself in her office for the rest of the day.

 

The next day, she saw him again. Logan ran up to the elevator just as the doors were closing and she had to hold it open for him. He gave her an out-of-breath ‘hi’ and his signature grin as the lift jolted to life. Glancing sideways at him, she took in his figure. He wore a dark green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It was tucked into a pair of black khaki pants. _Nice shoes_ , Seryn thought absently as she looked up and found herself staring into a pair of deep green eyes.

Seryn blushed and opened her mouth to make up an excuse, her mind blank. She was saved by the elevator doors opening. Relieved and embarrassed, she literally ran out of the elevator and into her office, accidentally slamming her door again. Air whooshed out of her lungs; she hadn’t been aware she was holding her breath at all. Running a hand over her hair, she strode to her desk.

For the next month, she saw him occasionally, but always, _always_ she seemed to make a fool out of herself. Which wasn’t much of a surprise really, seeing as she always did that. Her co-workers simply interpreted that as her being ‘cold’. “The Ice Queen, as always,” they liked to say.

 

So it came as something of a surprise – a shock akin to being confronted with a Great White shark in the middle of Times Square – when Logan approached her one afternoon in the tea room and asked her if she would like to have dinner with him. Seryn was glad she wasn’t drinking her tea at that moment; Gods knew that tea would be splattered all over his shirt and the floor. Instead, she stood there with her grey eyes wide open, her cup of tea forgotten in her hand.

Regaining some of her composure, she set down her mug and turned to him. “Pardon?”

“Would you like to have dinner with me? Tonight?” he grinned back at her, seemingly oblivious of her shock. “We could go to a fancy restaurant, or a fast food place – whatever you feel like.”

Slanting her head to one side, she stared at him, trying to determine whether he was _actually serious_.

 _He does look serious….Maybe he **is** really asking me on a date? I mean, a girl can hope, right?_ She cleared her throat, smiling awkwardly. “Uhm, sure? Why not?”

He grinned wider – if such a thing were even possible. “Fabulous! I’ll call you at 7 and pick you up.” With that, he strode off, leaving her staring after him and wondering whether she had switched bodies with someone else. Just as she picked up her mug again, he was back.

 

“I forgot to ask, what’s your phone number?”


	2. No Rest For The Wicked

_The ticking of the clock is what keeps me awake,_ she tells herself.

But that's a lie.

Her training keeps her awake. Her thoughts, swirling like fake snow in a snow globe, a mini hurricane in her head.

**Obey, serve, survive.**

_It's the ticking that keeps me awake._ But she hasn't slept for years, not properly, not deeply, not with dreams. Never with dreams. Dreams were a foreign notion to her

**Nightmares** , on the other hand, were her speciality.

Both hers and her victims', and even her friends'. With all her experience with nightmares, she was well equipped to help. All those years spent serving the Red Room had left her near immune to bloodshed, to violence of all sorts, to torture. **Near** immune. During the meagre hours she spent asleep, they swooped in, attacking her while she is most vulnerable.

* * *

Even now, even with the Red Room destroyed, she could not sleep, could not find that place of peace and safety, security. Ironic, given SHIELD's motto. 

* * *

Maybe for a moment she had felt safe. Felt comfort, in the arms of one bird-codenamed fellow, within the ranks of the organisation she _chose_ to help. Help, not serve.

But HYDRA had taken that away in a heartbeat.

She should have known. People like her – sinned, tainted, broken and put back together, fragile as glass but strong as diamonds – they never get peace. For a moment, mayhaps. But not for long, never for long.

She didn't think she minded all that much. This time, she was fighting with her own free will, on the side she chose. This time, she was stronger than ever before, stronger than she could ever hope to be.

 

This time, her **friends** were fighting right next to her.


End file.
